replenished it before leaving Quimpaug. Jim took his arm from about Garth's shoulders and went slowly to the bow of the boat. He ran his eye over the engine, then over the tank. He took out his knife and opened that useful part usually known as a "thing-to-take-stones-out-of-horses'-hoofs-with."
"When the little air-hole in the top of the tank is stopped up," he remarked, "no more gas can go into the carburetor; and when what's in there is exhausted, your engine stops." He poked a bit of dirt from the hole and shut his knife. "Now try her," he said, returning to his seat.
The Count's profuse thanks did not hide his angry humiliation when the engine started up smoothly, and the boat, which had been drifting in a circle, proceeded evenly on its way.
"That's a thing every good mechanic should remember," said Jim mildly, holding out his cigarette case.
The Russian made his boat fast at a pier in Quimpaug and, conversing gaily with the ladies, set off up the hill at a brisk pace.
"Let's slow up just a bit," Jim suggested; "all of us can't walk quite so fast as that."
